Come and speak to me when you have one for your thumb and more than one in the last 56 years.

Barry Bonds has many bobble heads out there on the collector's market. So do alot of other major league baseball players. But Bond's is unique in the fact that it is the ONLY bobble head that is actually to scale.

I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate the Giants on winning the 2010 'Fall Classic' , otherwise known to the rest of the world as the 'World Cup,' 4-1 in front of a thrilled national audience of approximately fifteen people from outside the San Francisco area (almost thirty if you count their various pets). It was truly a hard-fought battle that involved many impressive feats of strength and struggle that I'm sure would have been amazing had I actually watched any of it. I considered tuning in last night for the finale, but then a new DVD of NCIS came from Netflix, and no mere mortal can overcome the allure of the Gibbs. I would also like to extend sincere and heartfelt gratitude toward the Giants for choosing to wait and win their first championship since the fifties until well after Barry Bonds was forced into retirement via national popular vote.

So, my wife and I decided to take a trip into San Fransisco to watch a couple of Dodger-Jints games, last week. I expected a little trouble, but not what I encountered. It is just another reason why the Jints, and their fan base, suck.

We were down at Market and Powell, (for those of you who don't know where that is, I don't either, neither do I care) and of course we are wearing our pristine white, bluer than blue Dodger gear and some high, drunk, just fell out of the outhouse thug comes walking up to me and my wife and starts screaming "Fuck the Dodgers!" This goes on and on, I am actually trying to ignore him, and then two other women get into the middle of it (like they were going to do anything), then he starts cussing at my wife, the lovely Annie. So, I take matters into my own Dodger Blue hands, and needless to say, I wiped my feet on his jacket and he left with his black and orange tail between his legs.

Then we go to the stadium. Lo and behold, I saw little Timmy's pot dealer in the stands (probably not, but it makes for a good look-a-like story). He is getting drunker by the moment because he isn't very big, just like little Timmy. The game goes on, so does his mouth, directed at me, of course, and he sees my custom Dodgers Valenzuela jersey. He says I need to get a life. Hey, little Timmy's pot dealer...I ain't the one with a mullet. So I stand up next to him and what does he do? He runs like every coward Jint fan I have ever met does. Whoops...I think he bit off more than he could chew.

So, one last thought to show you just what cowards they really are, I hung my Dodger banner on the Jr. Giants Field fence, and proceeded to call attention to it as the lovely Annie and myself tailgated. Not one Jint coward would come over and do anything about it. Not one. Not even a comment. But let a Dodger woman go walking by them and they got brave. Hmm...

Just my random thoughts.

The Jints suck for many reasons, some of which I will expound upon at a later date...

I know, we will hear about the "The Dodgers haven't played in a World Series since 1988.."

I get that, but at least we won...(1955, '59, '63', '65, '81 and '88)

Oh, and our highlights are in color, not black and white (See 1954, Mays catch in the canyon that was known as the Polo Grounds...I could have made that catch for cryin' out loud!)

Now that's funny...Skinny little lead-off hitter...